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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26827732">electrified</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reign_of_Glory/pseuds/Reign_of_Glory'>Reign_of_Glory</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Three Dark Crowns Series - Kendare Blake</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Insanity, Sort Of, This poor girl, War Gift Katharine, a bit - Freeform</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 11:08:18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,725</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26827732</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reign_of_Glory/pseuds/Reign_of_Glory</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>electrified<br/>/əˈlektrəˌfīd/</p>
<p>2. having a sudden sense of great excitement; thrilled</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Katharine is electrified in the most sickening way possible. She feels the souls around her as she tries to breathe, and for a moment, she is certain she's dead.</p>
<p>This is what death feels like.</p>
<p>Death feels like power.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Katharine/Pietyr Renard (mentioned)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>electrified</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Katharine hurts.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She’s not meant to feel pain, but her arms hurt from where her scars have been scraped at as she fell. Her legs hurt from the landing, and the run to Pietyr. Her head even hurts, and she’s pretty sure that is whiplash.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Her heart hurts most, though. If her heart has compartments, it’s the compartment where her love for Pietyr is that’s broken. She’s tempted to clutch her chest, but she isn’t quite sure if she is strong enough.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She wants to claw her heart out of her chest, but she doesn’t think her fingers will let her. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Katharine hears, too.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She hears whispers of ages past, whispers of haunting songs that chill her to the very bone. She thinks she might be going insane, but she welcomes it. What more is there for her above the Breccia Domain?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Nothing,</span>
  </em>
  <span> she thinks bitterly, </span>
  <em>
    <span>and no one. Not even Pietyr will miss me now.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She thinks of Natalia, but she shoves the thought away the instant it materialises. Love has lost her enough, but she still thinks of Natalia as her mum. Maybe she could still love Natalia, but she’s going to die.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>If anything, she doesn’t wish Natalia to feel grief when she hears Katharine has died. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The Breccia Domain is creepy, Katharine decides, and she shivers as she glances at her surroundings. She can hardly see, and what she can see is covered in what she hopes is dust or ash. She’s not sure what’ll happen if it isn’t. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Katharine would have thought there would be bones down here, but there aren’t. At least, not that she can see. She sighs, her breath fogging in the abyss before her, and she wonders if she’ll manage to make it out. Really, it’s a wonder she isn’t dead yet. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Why</span>
  </em>
  <span> isn’t she dead yet? She’s a poisoner; she isn’t made to withstand falls like this. Even if she weren’t a poisoner, she’d have to be someone with the war gift to not die upon impact.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She shakes her head, clearing her thoughts the best she can. It sounds like an ocean is roaring in her ears, and she wants to stop it. She can’t.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Katharine can’t.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She feels a presence inside of her, around her, making her spin and spin until she can hardly remember her name or why she’s here. She calls out, but she can hardly scream, and she collapses into a ball, a single tear streaking down her cheek.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Katharine can’t stop it. She can’t stop anything. The world whirls around her, and she cries out again, squeezing her eyes shut and hugging her knees to her chest.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It stops.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Suddenly, her mind itches. She can’t describe how it feels (she can’t do anything, she can’t even save herself) but she screams again, her throat growing raw as she pulls her knees closer. Her dress is in tatters now. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“She’s alive, stop it.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Katharine freezes, her throat becoming more sore by the minute. She wills her breath to grow quiet as if she has enough stamina to not inhale a single atom of air.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Something wrong has happened,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>says another voice, and Katharine stills.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“She isn’t dead. Why is she not dead?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“She can help us.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Dear girl, what is your name?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Katharine pauses.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She opens her eyes. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Queen Katharine,” she says, “the poisoner Queen.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Immediately, the voices begin to clamour, and Katharine sighs. They aren’t trying to hurt her, not anymore. They still terrify her, though, and she can hardly move.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“You’re wrong,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>one voice says, louder than the rest, </span>
  <em>
    <span>“you aren’t a poisoner.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I can sense it,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> another woman agrees, </span>
  <em>
    <span>“not a poisoner.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Something begins to thrum in Katharine’s veins, and she gasps. “Then what?” the girl croaks.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“You know, deep down,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> begins one voice - Katharine has begun to realise they’re all feminine, and her breath catches in her throat when she understands. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“You have one of the greatest gifts.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Immediately, Katharine thinks of the Oracle gift, but she dismisses the thought as soon as it comes to mind. Oracles are drowned. She wasn’t.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The voices fade to a whisper, and Katharine finds the strength to stand. She smiles, a sudden determination filling her, and she nearly trips as it’s replaced with anger.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She sees a skull, and to her surprise, she isn’t fazed. Just another anomaly to this dreadful night. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Although she's surrounded by the bodies of her dead ancestors, fear has left her. She doesn't think she can be scared anymore, not after this. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She's angry, yes. Angry with Pietyr, because who wouldn't be? She's angry with Arsinoe for sending the bear. She's angry with Natalia for not doing more. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But she's angry with herself for trusting Pietyr, for letting him find his way into her arms, and nearly into her bed. She shouldn't have been so naive, so trusting. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>That Katharine is gone, she thinks. Her body will become carrion, and the land will feast. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>This Katharine, however, has found her strength in adversity. The struggles fuel her power, and she thinks ruefully of how she knows she's not meant to be a poisoner. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Perhaps, she thinks, she was meant to have a war gift. To wreak havoc upon all who crossed her. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yes, she decides, her split lips curling into a wicked grin. Destruction they gave her, and destruction they will have.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Katharine </span>
  <em>
    <span>knows.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She knows she can make it. She has survived a decade of poisoning. She survived the fall. The girl pulls off her gloves, grunting as one garment of black silk rips and the other nearly disintegrates as it falls to the ground. Silk might look lovely, but it’s not very durable (</span>
  <em>
    <span>like her,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Katharine’s mind whispers, and maybe it’s the spirits, but she shoves her mind away). She slips off her shoes, and she turns her gaze to the sky.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Up, Katharine can see the faint glow of the moon obscured by trees higher than she can even see. She can’t even see the top of the cliff - the cliff she has to climb.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Even though she’s the smallest sister, Katharine has never felt so small.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The spirits guide her, occasionally slipping into her mind and forcing her to put her hands in a certain crevice or her feet in a certain hole. They’re trying to help, but Katharine feels out of control, as if her entire world is spiralling and her sanity is the only thing she has left.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>(Her entire world </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> spiralling, but she isn’t sure if she’s ready to admit it.)</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Katharine screams.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Her fingernail is broken, and she doesn’t know if it’s the pain that blinds her or the blood. She isn’t used to seeing so much blood coming from herself. She can’t hear herself scream, and she doesn’t know if her ears are deafened by the ocean of spirits or if she can’t speak at all. Her throat is dry, she notices, but still she presses on, giving a half-silent yelp when she moves her injured finger.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The only thing that keeps her from letting go and falling down the ten metres she’s climbed is the voices of the dead Queens. She can hear them as if they’re whispering in her ears. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Avenge us,</span>
  </em>
  <span> they cry, </span>
  <em>
    <span>and you will have the crown.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She knows they’re right. After all, there are Oracles in the mix. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She wants the crown now. She may have wanted it before, but now, she knows her sisters are no longer the girls who might have protected her at night. Arsinoe tried to kill Mirabella, and Katharine knows she would have been next. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She’ll kill them, she decides, setting her jaw as she reaches up with her uninjured hand. She’ll kill them first, and she’ll do it quickly. Katharine will have mercy, mercy that Genevieve never had on her.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Pietyr, she thinks, won’t have mercy. After all, not everyone can.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She makes it farther up, and her muscles are burning. Still, there is something in her veins, something so powerful she might have thought it to be Mirabella’s electricity. She’s propelled by it, and she moves quicker, ignoring the pain in her hands and the missing fingernails she’s acquired. She ignores her tattered clothing and her grimy skin. If she can just make it all the way, if she can survive, that will be enough.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Katharine grimaces as her foot slips, but a wind catches her. It’s faint, but she smirks. The Queens are rooting for her, if no one else. They are the island, and they are her. By extension, </span>
  <em>
    <span>she</span>
  </em>
  <span> is the island.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Katharine is.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The Queens bicker inside her head, but they offer encouragement to her, and before she knows it, Katharine has made it halfway up. Her chest heaves; this is more physical exertion than she’s ever had before. Surprisingly, she finds she enjoys it. Something about the challenge draws her in, and she laughs a shrill laugh, something hardly like her usual innocent giggle.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>This laugh sounds nearly unhinged, and Katharine loves it. She relishes in the sound of her laughter, and it’s something rooting her to the earth - she knows she is </span>
  <em>
    <span>here</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and not in some void with the Queens.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She begins to climb more, drinking in the air, and she grins when moonlight hits her face. She’s nearly there. She can feel it.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Of course, there’s so much more to do once she makes it out of the chasm, but this is her obstacle now. Making it back to Greavesdrake Manor will have to wait, and then she will have her revenge.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The second her hand touches grass, Katharine squeals. It’s a giddy squeal, almost akin to the squeal she gave once when Pietyr kissed down her neck. Back when she was so naive. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She’s not naive anymore.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Katharine pulls herself up with a grunt, and she can see the sun beginning to rise in the distance. It’s morning. It’s a wonder the climb didn’t take her longer, really.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Katharine laughs. It’s not a proper laugh. This laugh is something that would worry Natalia if she saw her. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Go,</span>
  </em>
  <span> says a Queen, and Katharine’s giggles subside. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Go, and avenge us. Make this stop.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And she sets foot into the forest, relishing in her freedom, freedom that will last until she makes it back to Greavesdrake. Katharine feels happy; she feels complete.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Katharine lives.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
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